


Feeding the Plants

by Caius



Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One), The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: For Science!, Multi, Other, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2019-09-20 14:45:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17024637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caius/pseuds/Caius
Summary: G1 Skyfire and Wheeljack and IDW Brainstorm have a lab together. Sometimes Brainstorm and Wheeljack help feed Skyfire’s plants.Written because ScribeProtra asked for Skyfire/Brainstorm/Wheeljack, SCIENCE!





	Feeding the Plants

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ScribeProtra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScribeProtra/gifts).



“It’s your turn to feed Skyfire’s plants,” Brainstorm declared, not looking up from his micro-welding.

I fed them last week,” Wheeljack argued, not-too-carefully measuring some chemicals into their compartments.

Skyfire shrugged his wings as he filled their entire door. “It doesn’t matter. They’re bigger now. I’m going to need two helpers, and I would prefer trained scientists.

Brainstorm and Wheeljack looked at each other for a long moment. “Two helpers!” said Wheeljack, as he squared away his chemicals quickly.

“Do you have enough energon and coolant stocked?” Brainstorm asked, trying to get his welding to a place where he could just stop.

“I hope so. But if it will take the two of you, say, half a breem to get ready, I will acquire more.”

Wheeljack waved with his headfins, Brainstorm with his wings. 

When Skyfire returned, arms full of cubes of energon and coolant, they both scrambled to get the last few bits of things squared away, and then followed Skyfire into his Biohazards lab. 

“Aw, did you miss us?” Wheeljack knelt down into the waving mass technoorganic tentacles. “You hungry?”

“I think they’re growing quite well,” Brainstorm said, addressing the tentacle that had presented itself in front of his face, connectors and tendrils waving a greeting and an expectation of fuel. Before he opened anything, Brainstorm looked around to Wheeljack – who was already wrapped up in vines and making happy little rumbles and flashes of headfins – and Skyfire, who was carefully putting the energon and coolant in easy reach of the Cybertronians and – as much as possible – not in easy reach of the morphobots and their kin. 

Although Skyfire claimed that some of them were learning to pick up the cubes and feed them to the humans.

Skyfire was very optimistic about his particular experiments. Brainstorm fended off the tendrils for just long enough to top off his fuel tank and coolant through his auxiliary import before putting the cubes aside and relaxing into the grip of the vines. 

It was soothing, almost, at first, the way they would wrap you up and touch you everywhere, holding you close but not dangerously tight. And then you would open – or the clever little connectors and tendrils would pry open – the panels of mouth, spike, valve, and it became yet another experience altogether. 

Brainstorm could already hear Wheeljack overloading on the left, and toward the back of the room, Skyfire was being utterly surrounded by the vines. Skyfire would open his cargo hold to give them more space and more places to latch on.

Brainstorm – for now, at least – kept it to mouth, spike, valve, and a few auxiliary ports. They were Skyfire’s pets, after all, not his, even if they felt so warm and sweet sliding down his intake and up his valve. Another one rubbed against the tip of his spike, and then its tip parted, spreading wider to wrap around him like the best tight node-rich valve Brainstorm had ever had. 

They held him in place, wrapped entirely in vine/cables, a few few bites of data pressing into his processor through primitive data connections while the rest of the organism worked to bring him to overload, again and again and again.

He peaked first in his spike, pouring charge and transfluid into the tentacle sheathing his spike; it pulled off, sucked/scraped a bit more fluids from the tip and then was replaced by another vine.

The ones in his valve kept moving, harder and deeper, and never quite comfortable, because as his body adapted and produced more lubricants, capillaries in the vines soaked it right up. His charge, however, kept growing and growing, little zaps of electricity between his valve and the tentacles inside that caused them to writhe and encouraged yet more to try to squeeze in. 

A second overload, and a few sated vines dropped, or were forced, out of his valve, to be replaced by a few more. A quick glimpse of the rest of the room showed that Wheeljack and Skyfire, as well, were making progress – although it was hard to tell, with the sheer number of places Skyfire had installed in and on himself to feed his beloved technoorganics, there was an increasingly large pile of sated vines resting near Skyfire, and a smaller pile by Wheeljack.

Brainstorm’s pile was smaller than Wheeljack’s. Clearly he was going to have to up his game. He grabbed a double handful of vines and pulled them between his legs, encouraging them to get close as he worked his valve and spike as hard as he could in the vines that filled and hold him. Just a few more overloads and he’d catch up to Wheeljack!

In the end, there was nothing but sated Cybertronians, and sated morphobots. Brainstorm pried himself off the floor to look at his pile and compare it to Wheeljack’s. 

“Mine’s bigger,” he declared, and then fell asleep on a pile of heavy, relaxed vines. 


End file.
